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Every day I wake up, it’s the same routine: the sound of Grandpa’s chopper knife slamming down on an old tree stump is always the first thing I hear. I open my blinds. The stone Magikarp pours a torrent of water into the pool below. Grandma hangs freshly washed clothes on the clothesline for the wind and sun to finish drying. And Suguri is outside our lawn, kicking his soccer ball.
It might be selfish of me to admit, but there’s a strange comfort in the usual routine. There's no surprises, just a natural order of things where the world seems to just…work. I get up, wash up, put on my clothes, and pick a chocolate bar from the counter in one of our tatami rooms; then I head outside to play soccer with Suguri. He gets up early to practice, yet he still loses to me. That’s only natural. I’m his older sister, after all.
“No fair, Zeiyu!” Suguri says. “That was a foul!”
“I don’t see the referee. Do you?”
He always shuts up when I reply to him. He’s such an obedient little brother, it almost scares me. At 9 years old, you’d think he’d grow up a little more, have more of a backbone, but no, he’s just my little brother. And it seems like he’ll always be that way.
“Zeiyu!” Grandmother calls out my name. “Don’t forget to bring the clothes back into the house after they dry, darling. It might rain soon.”
“Fiiiine!” Ugh, I hate chores, and I hate the rain even more. Suguri snickers at me until I stomp on his foot and walk away. As the air gets heavier during the day, it takes longer for the clothes to dry than usual. While Suguri continues practicing, Grandpa and Grandma teach me the basics of Pokémon training, as well as other, more useless things, like languages and math. After studying, I pull the clothes off the racks and bring them back inside, folding them neatly. Grandpa compliments my work and pats my back. Then, I help Grandma with cooking during the evening hours. I hold the dashi broth packet in my hand before dumping it into the water. I also help her cut the eggplants. It makes me feel grown-up, helping her in the kitchen, like I’m one step closer to becoming a self-reliant adult.
Then, after dinner, everything quiets down and we get ready for bed. We heard from some outsiders a few years ago that the stars in Kitakami are bright and dense compared to some city a little ways away called Vermillion. It’s another reason why I feel comfortable here. Without the dense stars, without the rainbows of colors that twinkle in the night sky, I think I’d feel unsafe.
My life in Kitakami has been the same since my parents abandoned us about a year ago. With them, everything was hectic and fast-paced, but the quietness of life with Grandma and Grandpa has been rewarding. I feel safe and loved, and most of all, I don’t have to worry about broken promises.
Nothing changes in Kitakami now. And hopefully, nothing changes in Kitakami in the future.
A strange silence greets me in the morning. I don’t know what to do, so I quickly open the blinds. The Magikarp is doing its usual thing, splashing water into the pool, but Grandpa isn’t chopping wood, and Suguri isn’t outside playing soccer. I rush out of my room without even brushing my teeth or washing my face to check on things. Grandpa and Grandma sit with their legs crossed, deep in prayer. I interrupt them and ask where Suguri is.
Grandpa smiles. “Suguri went out to greet some tourists he met near our community center.” His smile irritates me, so I look away from him as I run to the community center. Grandma’s voice–asking me about my panic–fades away into the distance as I make my way closer.
At the community center, a bunch of odd-looking people line up and explore the surroundings. They admire the rice farms, the tall grass, and the ‘rustic-ness’ of our village. Even Peachy’s store is stacked with these weird-looking outsiders.
Standing outside Mossui’s community center, Suguri plays soccer with a girl. She has very dark skin, and her hair looks strange, frizzled beyond repair like my hair during rainy days. Instead of yelling and getting in the way of their conversation–as much as I want to–I stay back, hiding behind the building to listen discreetly. They talk about all sorts of things, like foreign cars, TV shows, and cell phones, stuff I can hardly wrap my head around. Suguri isn’t quite sure what the girl is talking about either, but he seems excited to have a conversation with her.
And yet, inside me, I feel a strange burning sensation under my stomach. It’s unfair. He’s the younger brother, so he shouldn’t be making friends first, especially foreign friends. The fact that she’s a foreigner is also a problem. She’s probably stupid and ignorant of our ways. Not once during their conversation did Suguri mention our culture. It was all about hers. Why is he so eager to experience other places when that’s why our parents left us?
I storm through the front door and head to my room, ignoring Grandma and her calls to understand me. No one understands me. No one at all. And it’s better that way because everyone is stupid–Suguri most of all.
The next day, I peek out the window. The two of them play soccer, kicking the ball back and forth between their feet. After they finish, she shows off her Pokémon, a weird-looking pink and purple blob that levitates. I think it’s called Munna? Either way, it looks dumb and…grrr! I can’t stand being put on the sidelines like this. Suguri’s going against everything he’s supposed to believe in by playing with this outsider girl. It’s disgusting. I HATE IT!
I storm outside. Suguri turns to me and waves with a smile on his face. I ignore it, pushing him to the side before kicking the girl down to the ground. She cries.
“You don’t belong here,” I say. “Leave!”
She stands up and runs away into the distance with her Munna without even bothering to look back. See, little brother? I knew she didn’t care about you.
“Sis! What’s gotten into you?”
“I’m protecting you from this girl’s weirdness.”
“But…we were just playing–”
“I don’t care!”
“I hate you!” Suguri tries to run back into our home, but I grab him by his shirt and slap him across the face.
“Don’t you remember what our parents did to us?” I say, trying to control the trembling of my fingers as they grip his shirt collar. “And now you’re trying to do the same thing with this foreigner? Did you forget about our promise?”
Suguri stands up–his short legs tremble as he bows his head down to me. “I-I’m sorry, Zeiyu. I won’t ever do it again…”
“Good.”
…
“I hear that Castellia City is a wonderful place to live,” Father said to us while pointing at a brochure of Unova he found at the Community Center. “It has fancy cars and buildings so tall that when you arch your neck to look up, you can’t see the entire building!” Suguri and I used to ‘ooh’ and ‘aah’ at every little thing they told us about Castellia City. It was the place they most wanted to live. Nothing symbolized inner-city life more than Castellia.
“You two will get to meet all sorts of new friends, too!” Mother said. We were lonely–at least, I know I was. There’s hardly a soul in Kitakami other than the elderly. It’s probably seen as the best place for older folks to go when they’re about to die. So, when our mother told us that, we were sold. Suguri wanted more soccer friends, and I wanted an endless amount of chocolate. Both of us, however, wanted to enroll in Pokémon trainer school, and Castelia has five schools right in the city alone. We could finally become trainers, just like all the people we saw on TV.
On a rainy day, the day we were supposed to leave for Unova, I couldn’t fall asleep. I stayed up all night, remembering the tall black buildings and the treasure trove of candy shops filled with chocolate bars that my parents had shown me in those pictures. Suguri entered my room, and we pulled out a huge book with a bunch of names in alphabetical order–names in the “common tongue” as they call it across the world. Suguri chose Kieran, and I picked Carmine. I wanted something unique, something that matched my black and red hair, and, well, if anyone fits the description of crimson red, it’s me.
“Is it Kaar-muhn or Kaar-mEYEn?”
“Pretty sure it’s Kaar-muhn. Kaar-mEYEn sounds weird.”
The moment I fell asleep was probably when they left us. They sneaked out of the house and disappeared without a trace.
We waited a few hours to hear back from them. In Kitakami, hardly anyone has a cell phone, so we couldn’t reach them through the internet either. Then, we went to the community center and asked if anyone had seen our parents. Most people shook their heads no, except one elderly man who smoked too many cigars.
“They were up when the moon was still out, that early, sitting at the bus stop while carrying suitcases. That was about a half-dozen hours ago. I’m afraid you two can only assume the worst.”
I wanted to cry and scream back then, but Suguri did it first, so I couldn’t. I couldn’t cry in front of my grandparents or the people of the village. No, I didn’t want my parents to get the upper hand over me after they betrayed me with their lies. I’ll never let that happen. Never.
When Suguri cried, he ran into my arms like a baby. He asked me never to leave him, so I promised I wouldn't, as long as he didn't leave me. Despite my anger and hatred toward my parents, I think I can show a soft side sometimes.
…
The pitter-patter of the rainstorm wakes me up in the morning. It brings regret and a whole lot of memories. I’ve been grounded in my room for a week after what I did to Suguri. I want to say I don’t regret it, but every time I recount it, I want to bang my head on the window.
When it rains, and when I’m grounded, solitude feels more like a curse than anything. I can’t even watch TV to distract myself. No, I have to be in my mind all day and listen to whatever idiotic thought pops up. Was I wrong for kicking that girl? Am I a bad kid? What if Mom and Dad left me because of my badness? It’s like a never-ending cycle of the same thoughts coming back to haunt me, an assault of lashes striking at my brain. And every time I think of those thoughts, I want to tear down the walls of my room.
I open the blinds. Outside, Suguri is playing with his soccer ball, kicking it up on the sides of his feet like a pro. He’s gotten really good at it. I guess getting up so early finally pays off. Still, seeing him out there in the pouring rain makes my cheeks flush red. It’s frustrating. He handles the rain better than I do, and he’s even getting better at soccer! If he keeps this up, he’ll become a professional soccer player, even though we were both supposed to be Pokémon trainers.
That’s it! I’m going out there!